


Of Daiquiris, Dates and Dicks

by Nux



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Riding the cowboy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-15 10:11:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8052325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nux/pseuds/Nux
Summary: Hanzo unknowingly has a Tinder account, courtesy of Genji, and matches with a cowboy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on this tumblr post - [Tinder prompt](http://lyliah.tumblr.com/post/150363364868/consider-this-a-non-battle-au-where-genji-makes)

Hanzo couldn't believe it. Tricked by his own family; his very own brother, going behind his back in such a _foul_ way. He stared at the man in front of him--the cowboy. He recalled the argument he had had with Genji regarding the matter, how Genji had so proudly exclaimed that he was to go on a date.

 

_“Oh, a cowboy just matched with you on your Tinder.”_

 

_“My what? Genji--I have no such thing.”_

 

_“Sorry, I forgot to tell you. I made an account for you.”_

 

_“Delete it.”_

 

_“Not yet, I'm going to swipe back to this cowboy. He's really good looking, you know; here check this picture--”_

 

Hanzo remembered the cheerful expression on his brother’s face; he had seemed all giddy and _excited_ with the phone in his grasp, even going to the lengths of hopping up on a chair in order to keep said phone away from Hanzo. In retrospect, it must have looked absolutely ridiculous, two grown men fighting over a phone.

 

In the end, Hanzo had lost the battle and somehow he had agreed to a date with this cowboy. Of course he was only meeting up with him to politely explain that there had been a mistake, that the date wouldn't happen because--

 

The cowboy hit him with the most charming smile Hanzo had ever seen, all pearly whites and eyes crinkling at the corners. Despite looking rather rugged and unkempt, Hanzo found himself staring. The man's eyes twinkled and he extended his hand.

 

“The name’s McCree. Jesse McCree,” came the sweet, thick drawl. Like gold pouring out of the man's mouth. Hesitantly, Hanzo shook the man's hand.

 

“Shimada Hanzo,” he replied after a few seconds. He was still holding onto the man's hand, calloused and strong--enough to make Hanzo's breath catch in his throat. _Enough._ He shook his head and retracted his hand, offering the smallest, most apologetic smile he could muster.

 

“I apologise. There has been a mistake. Unfortunately this is a set up by my very immature brother, and I have to decline to this…” he paused, weighing the word in his mouth, hesitating. “Date.”

 

The cowboy--Hanzo refused to think of him by his name despite the attraction pulling him in in such an unforgiving way--dropped the charming smile and seemed almost upset. Hanzo caught how the man quickly cast a glance down himself, as if the man thought his appearance weren't to Hanzo's standards. If it hadn't been for the situation, Hanzo would have told him his looks were good, that it merely was the set-up that gnawed at his bones. He didn't like the idea of being tricked into a date, nor did he like hook-ups such as these.

 

“My sincerest apologies,” Hanzo spoke, inhaling a deep breath to steady himself and his decision. “I will now take my leave--”

 

“Hey,” the cowboy started, cutting him off.

 

Hanzo shot the man a pinched expression, not one for being interrupted.

 

“Sorry, I just, y'know...” he trailed off. Hanzo shook his head a firm no; he didn't know at all.

 

“What?”

 

“‘Mean, we’re both here. Dressed up. Would be a shame to waste our time like this, wouldn't it?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“All 'm saying is, one date wouldn't hurt. Would it?”

 

“This is not a proper date location,” Hanzo mumbled, gazing at the vibrantly glowing sign hanging above the entrance to a bar.

 

“Then how ‘bout a friend date? Y'know, the two of us getting to know each other over a couple o’ drinks and we'll take it from there.”

 

It sounded…oddly convincing, and Hanzo knew his determination was slipping when he looked up at the cowboy--he wore the same kind of giddy expression Genji had when he was ‘winning’ something. His resolve crumbled completely a few seconds later and he nodded, though it was curt and he was still rather hesitant.

 

“One drink.”

 

“Ya won't regret it!”

 

Well, Hanzo was going to hold on to that promise dearly, and if the cowboy did break it then Hanzo would walk out on him despite his good looks and annoyingly charming ways.

 

********

 

Jesse McCree couldn't believe his eyes--an angel, that was what Shimada Hanzo was, disguised as a person.

 

McCree also couldn't believe what an absolute lightweight the man was; he definitely couldn't hold his liquor for the life of him. He probably should've let the man just enjoy his _one_ drink and not have him try more funny, different-coloured ones that barely tasted like alcohol at all. Girly, some would say, but damn did McCree enjoy those strawberry daiquiris. And so did his date, apparently, given by how he was currently licking his hand clean where he had spilled the drink on himself. In his seat, McCree had shivered and been _very_ glad for the poor light, because he was already sweating heavily where he sat, both amazed and lovestruck by this man he barely even knew.

 

“So, Shimada--”

 

“Hanzo,” the man in question spoke, effectively cutting the American off.

 

“Hanzo. Ya enjoying the date, then?”

 

“Oh, yes--” Hanzo leaned across the table, the pink flush on his cheeks standing out as light fell upon sharp cheekbones. He was slurring and slightly unbalanced, McCree noted. The next thing he knew, his hat was gone from his head and McCree saw it in Hanzo's hand; the man inspected it with an expression that looked like he was reminiscing.  Hanzo then proceeded to place the hat on his own head. It didn't fit him at all; it was too big, and fell down a bit over his eyes. McCree’s breath caught in his throat once more and his stomach did a stupid somersault, and he couldn't help the loopy grin that found its way to his lips.

 

“I… have always wanted to ride a cowboy.”

 

McCree was glad he wasn't drinking anything because suddenly his face went red and eyes  grew wide; he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

 

“P-pardon me? Ya sure ya don't mean _horse_?” Because Hanzo couldn't have said that. He couldn't.

 

“No. I meant what I said. I have always wanted to ride a cowboy.” For someone so drunk, the words came out so clear and sure--McCree was turned on in a second. He could feel the sudden throbbing need and he shifted in his seat to get comfortable once more.

 

“Well, shit,” McCree started, letting out a breathy sound and completely losing his cool. He swallowed thickly, cleared his throat and tried anew. “How ‘bout ya come back to my place and we’ll make this fantasy of yers come true then?” The words poured out of him in a rush but he caught the sudden excitement in his date’s eyes--the unmistakable twinkle as he parted his lips.

 

“Yes, please.”

 

He couldn't believe the man fell for something as cheesy as that. Not that he would complain in the slightest.

 

“C’mon then, darlin’,” he said as he got up from the table, throwing a couple of bills down, most likely more than the drinks had cost.

 

Hanzo stood up as well, and McCree reclaimed his hat before they were off in a hurry.

 

********

 

McCree fumbled with the keys to his apartment door, excited and somehow nervous; Hanzo was hanging off his arm and unabashedly pressing the faintest kisses to his bearded chin, all hot and promising something _more_. Finally the key clicked, and the door swung open.

 

“Fucking finally--” he breathed hotly as he pulled Hanzo through the door. He could see disgust flicker across the man's face momentarily, no doubt not impressed by the mess inside. There were clothes strewn about, shoes and even an umbrella lying discarded on the parquet. “Sorry,” McCree mumbled sheepishly before capturing Hanzo in a kiss to stop the man from running out on him. It worked wonders and Hanzo let out a satisfied sound, much to McCree's pleasure. Against him, the other man felt hot and the American pressed closer into the kiss, tilting his head and and nibbling on the other man's lower lip, silently asking for permission. He was granted it and he dove in, hands coming up to cup Hanzo's cheeks, thumbs gently caressing the neatly trimmed beard. Between them, small heated sounds were smothered as hands started to tug at clothes; Hanzo dropped annoyed huffs as McCree's hold on him was unrelenting. The American had Hanzo pressed up against the door; one leg was wriggling between strong thighs to teasingly rub against the growing bulge there.

 

Then McCree remembered they were here for a _reason_ and he pushed away from Hanzo, a wet gasp escaping the latter as they parted. He felt the man grind down on his leg once more before he withdrew completely.

 

“C’mon--” he rasped and took hold of Hanzo's hand, tugging him along down a narrow corridor. Bedroom. Bed. Couldn't fulfill Hanzo's fantasy if they were standing up.

 

Hanzo looked just as unimpressed by his bedroom as he had been by his apartment; the messy state almost looking like it was too much for the neat man. McCree was lucky, though, because Hanzo turned to him again, kissing him with just as much force and passion he had done before. It was a wet slide of tongues and hands gently caressing each other; McCree's fingers fumbling with the buttons to Hanzo's crisp white button down before he ultimately got it off the man. Hanzo in turn set out to work on McCree's belt, fingers surprisingly skilled despite the drunken state he was in.

 

McCree was amazed, and turned on and he let out a groan as Hanzo's hand ran over the bulge in his jeans--the palm added just the slightest pressure so McCree could rub himself against it, unashamed. He heard Hanzo's breath hitch and he grinned before his own breath caught in his throat as Hanzo pushed him to the bed, effectively manhandling him down on it with a power McCree didn't think the man possessed. If anything, it made his cock throb and press painfully against the seam to his jeans and he set out to remove his clothes as well.

 

“Leave it,” Hanzo spoke then, tone sharp all of a sudden.

 

McCree paused with his fingertips on the buttons to his flannel, eyebrows drawn together.

 

“Keep your clothes on,” Hanzo clarified and McCree could only nod-- and stare-- as his date undid his presumably expensive dress pants, pushing them and his boxers down. He stood completely naked next to the bed and McCree had to bite into his bottom lip as he gazed upon the man in all his glory; the pale skin looked untouched and so pristine. McCree let his gaze travel from Hanzo's cheekbones down to the dwindling dragon that twisted along one muscular arm, then down a lean and toned stomach, followed the slight treasure trail down to the erect cock that stood proudly, a drop of pre-come beading at the tip. McCree couldn't help but lick his lips in appreciation, wondering how that cock would feel on his tongue. It looked smaller than his own, not as heavy, but McCree couldn't care less about the size of it.

 

“Lube…?” Hanzo spoke and McCree was abruptly pulled from his thoughts and he looked back up at the man's face; he saw the pink flush blossoming high on Hanzo's cheeks and the wet sheen on his lips, red and puffy.

 

“In the--” McCree cut himself off and cleared his throat. “In the drawer. Bottom one.”

 

Hanzo nodded and pulled the drawer out, digging around before coming up with lube in his hand as well as a condom. McCree had to bite his lip again as he watched Hanzo saunter over to the bed, items in hand. He made a show of stretching out, lifting his hips just the slightest; cock still trapped under the zipper of his jeans. He saw the shiver rippling in Hanzo's muscles and grinned in victory, spreading his legs just so as Hanzo climbed atop of him, seating himself on his thighs. McCree sighed lustfully at the weight; he was already dripping pre-come and Hanzo had barely even touched him.

 

“I'm going to ride you,” Hanzo murmured and McCree suddenly felt dizzy and lightheaded.

 

“Yes, yes--” he breathed in a rush, muscles flexing as he felt Hanzo's hand on his cock again, the hand rubbing him through thick denim as if taunting him. _Finally_ his jeans popped open, and McCree sighed from the relief, only to then suck in a deep breath as Hanzo took hold of his cock, giving it a few experimental jerks. The American watched nimble fingers run down his length, then back up again to gather the pearly white drops that had formed there, thumb running over his slit. McCree couldn't help but groan heatedly and shift his hips, pressing up against the fleeting touch. Hanzo, the tease, withdrew his hand.

 

“F-fuck, Han--”

 

“Silence.”

 

Welp, what did you say to that? McCree nodded and bit into his lip, bruising it.

 

He watched as Hanzo uncapped the bottle of lube and squirted out some onto his fingers; that was when it dawned on McCree and his eyes widened and his gaze flickered between lube-slicked fingers and Hanzo's already blissful expression. The American had to swallow thickly again and watched as Hanzo brought his lubed up fingers behind him, watched him lift himself up to stand on his knees, most likely to get a better angle. McCree didn't see it, but he heard the second Hanzo found his hole; he heard the hitch in his breath and the moan that followed. From there it went quickly--in a flash, Hanzo had two fingers in himself and then three, spreading himself open with lewd, slick sounds and wet moans as he fucked back against his own hand, shuddering above McCree. It was magical to watch, but McCree couldn't take it anymore--his cock couldn't stand it and he reached out to take hold of Hanzo's thigh, digging his fingers into the strong muscle. It quivered beneath his hands and McCree loved the moan Hanzo delivered at the simple touch.

 

“Babe, fuck, I'd love to watch you fuck yourself like this but--” he thrust up, his cock standing proudly, bobbing just the slightest as he moved. It seeped profoundly, thick and heavy drops of pre-come running down the length of it, still untouched.

 

It seemed to take a moment for the words to register with Hanzo but when they did, the man withdrew his hand with a wet, loud pop that made McCree's stomach once again doing a somersault, arousal flaring.

 

“Forgive me. I got… carried away.”

 

McCree just smiled and watched as Hanzo wiped his hand off on the bed sheets and then reached for the condom, tearing the package on his second try. A sweet hiss was torn from McCree's throat as he felt the condom being rolled down his cock, Hanzo's hand working rather clinically, not offering enough relief to his hot skin. He heard the lube being uncapped again and then next thing he knew, Hanzo's hand was back on his cock, the coldness of the lube making him shiver against the warmth of Hanzo's hand as he thrust up against the hold.

 

Then Hanzo's hand was gone again and McCree let out a frustrated, disappointed sound, only for it to turn into a groan as Hanzo moved, lining them up. McCree felt it, the slick hole that opened up for him without a hitch as Hanzo sank down, easily taking all of him in one go. It amazed McCree and he let out a throaty sound, couldn't help to buck his hips up against the tight wet heat above him. The movement made Hanzo moan sweetly and the man leant forward, hands resting on McCree’s chest to steady himself.

 

“F-fuck--whenever yer ready, darlin’--”

 

Hanzo moved slowly. He barely rose an inch before he ground down again.

 

“Yer so tight--” McCree gasped, hands flexing in the bedsheet under him. “So damn pretty, ridin’ me--”

 

Hanzo picked up his pace, experimentally moving in a slow rhythm, coaxing soft sounds from McCree. For a second, the American wondered if he hadn't died and gone to heaven. The pace changed again and Hanzo moved in earnest, nearly lifting off McCree's cock completely before fucking down hard, his own cock slapping against McCree's stomach obscenely.

 

The American shifted, tilted his hips and the sound that poured from Hanzo's lips as he moved down was pure _sin_ ; he mewled hotly, body nearly spasming, and for a split second McCree wondered if he had broken the poor man. A glance upwards to Hanzo's face told him no, and he shivered, thrusting back up into Hanzo as the man moved down again. Above him, Hanzo looked completely blissed out, spitslick lips slightly parted and a wet sheen on his skin, eyelids fluttering in pleasure as soft moans escaped him. _An angel,_ McCree reminded himself as he fucked up once more, putting more effort into the thrust. Another wet gasp fell from Hanzo's parted lips and pre-come dribbled from his cock, no doubt close to the edge. The sight alone made McCree let go of the bed sheets to hold Hanzo's hips to fuck up hurriedly into the man, tugging Hanzo down onto himself. He felt Hanzo clamp down around his cock and his ragged breath hitched in his throat again.

 

“McCree--”

 

“J-jesse- call me Jesse--”

 

 _Thrust._ Another wet slap as Hanzo's cock met McCree's abdomen.

 

“Jess-- je-- I--” Poor Hanzo seemed to be rendered wordless and it only spurred McCree further as he frantically thrust up into the man, chasing his own release. On a loud, wailing moan, Hanzo came, come spluttering across McCree's chest, nearly touching his cheek. That, and the way Hanzo suddenly tightened around him, was what finally made McCree topple over the edge and as he thrust up into Hanzo once more, he spilled into the condom. Leisurely, he fucked through his orgasm until he was completely spent and he relaxed down on the bed; breathing heavily and ragged above him, Hanzo was hesitant so McCree tugged the man down to lay on top of him to him, pointedly ignoring the mess they had created between them.

 

“Fu-ck that was--”

 

“Good,” Hanzo spoke, breathing just as erratically.

 

“Amazing,” McCree grinned. Hanzo smiled.

 

It took him another second and then he pulled out of Hanzo, mindful of the condom; he tied it together and threw it lazily into the trash can standing close by the bed, purposely placed nearby.

 

“Please stay…” he murmured, breathing not as strained now. “Ya can leave in the mornin’, ‘don't really mind…”

 

He was met by a soft sound and Hanzo shifting, then the near silence.

 

“Fine,” followed by an even quieter, “I don't think I could walk anyway.” McCree said nothing but he grinned and pulled the other man close, drifting off to sleep.

 

 

********

 

Hanzo woke up first in the morning, feeling all gooey and relaxed as well as a severe, throbbing headache. In addition to everything, he felt  _ sore, _ and he found himself rather liking the feeling. When he turned around, he was met by the cowboy, sleeping soundly next to him, snoring and comfortable. Perhaps the tinder idea hadn't been so bad after all.

 

Perhaps he owed his brother an apology.

 

A soft sigh left him as he felt the man next to him shift and pull him in closer; he could think about these matters later. 

 

Hanzo pressed closer to McCree and succumbed, drifting off to sleep once more.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji meddles with Hanzo's lovelife - again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [Midnightluck](http://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightluck), for being my lovely beta, I don't know what I would've done without her!

It wasn't until well into late noon that Hanzo got home; wary of his steps in order to avoid making too much noise as he unlocked the front door and tried to sneak inside to avoid Genji and the inevitable interrogation he knew he would receive.

 

Hanzo was not so lucky.

 

The second he closed the door he could hear his brother’s rather rushed footsteps behind him - light though unmistakably there. Sucking in a deep breath to brace himself, Hanzo smoothed down the slightly creased button-down as if that would hide the fact that he had been out all night _and_ morning and had gotten dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing the night before. He just needed to pretend like nothing had even happened.

 

“That wasn't so bad, was it?” Genji suddenly spoke, interrupting his thoughts. Hanzo could practically _hear_ the smug smile in his brother’s tone and it aggravated him.

 

Inhaling deeply once more, Hanzo turned around to face his brother properly. It lasted for a second and then he let out a sigh, closing his eyes and leaned against the door.

 

“No, it wasn't so bad.”

 

“See, I told you! ...a--nd?” Genji spoke, drawing out the a and looking expectant, mirth evident on his face when Hanzo blinked his eyes open again. _I was wrong. Your idea was much better than I thought it would be and I, surprisingly, had a good time. I will not doubt you again, brother._ He couldn’t say any of that.

 

“And… I owe you an apology,” Hanzo admitted but said nothing more.

 

“Yes, you do! So what happened? I mean, I made this happen so come on and spill the beans!”

 

“ _Please_ , I would like a moment of sile--”

 

“No way,” Genji practically hollered - much to Hanzo’s dismay and he drew his eyebrows together tightly, trying to silently tell his brother to stop with the loud voices.

 

“He got you to drink,” Genji let out on a small gasp, as if he couldn’t believe it.

 

Hesitation flickered across his face and Hanzo’s gaze faltered for a second, as did his stern expression, and Genji grinned widely when Hanzo looked back up.

 

“Yes. He got me to drink,” Hanzo repeated, wishing his brother could just let him retreat to his own room without a fuss. Preferably five minutes ago.

 

“And you stayed the night.”

 

“Yes,” the elder Shimada sighed exasperated, letting the ‘ _so what?’_ hang heavily in the air - his brother did things like this all the time, so why would this be a big deal? It wasn’t, but Genji snickered like it was and it definitely rubbed Hanzo the wrong way as they looked at each other.

 

“...Do you think it was because of the clothes I picked out for you?”

 

“Genji, please--” Hanzo pushed away from the door and shouldered his way past Genji to get to his room; he had no memory of if the cowboy--Jesse--had liked his clothes, only that he had felt horribly out of place with the crisp white button down and black slacks, like he had been dressed for a fancy date at an exclusive restaurant rather than a night out at a bar. Hearing the snickering from Genji, however, told Hanzo all he needed to know; his brother had purposely dressed him to make a fool out of himself. As he walked down the narrow corridor, Genji spoke up again and Hanzo came to a halt, shifting so he could look at his younger brother.

 

“Did you at least get his number?”

 

At first, Hanzo looked almost regretful and he opened his mouth, only to close it a second later. “I… no… I didn't,” Hanzo began, stopped and continued, turning his head away to look down the corridor. “But...I gave him my business card.”

 

“Ah--” Genji exclaimed rather loudly and then continued, “then I'm sure he'll call you!”

 

Before he could quell it, a sliver of _hope_ flitted across his face, and then he spoke, a hasty “Yes--” before turning to walk away once more. This time Genji let him be, and he got to his room without being interrupted or stopped again and for that, he was thankful. Now he just had to pretend he wasn’t _waiting_ for Jesse to call him.

 

********

 

Jesse McCree never called him. Six days had passed and there hadn’t been any calls from the ridiculously handsome and charming cowboy, and it made Hanzo feel like a fool for still having hopes of getting that one phone call. It made him feel like a fool for having even gone on the date in the first place. Made him feel like a fool for so stupidly agreeing to drinks when he knew he couldn't hold his liquor very well. There was a part of him that fiercely wished he could just turn the time back and refuse when Genji had first proposed the idea; at least then he wouldn't have to be so ashamed of himself now.

 

For the eleventh time that morning, he  checked his phone; the screen was still void of any notifications. Not even an e-mail - nothing.

  
As Genji wandered into the kitchen, shamelessly dressed in just green boxers that matched his hair and a slate grey hoodie, Hanzo put the phone down but there was no hiding the disappointed look on his face; he knew it was there the second he caught Genji’s eye.

 

“Still no call?” Genji asked and he plopped down on one of the chairs around the slightly oval table, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the tabletop. Hanzo caught the pitying look and let out a low huff.

 

“No,” he answered curtly, opting to look back down at the unfolded newspaper in front of him instead though his focus was miles away.

 

“Man, I could’ve sworn he was really into you--” Genji shook his head and got up from the chair again, the legs of it screeching hideously against the floor. He seemed antsy, despite having nothing to be restless about, or so Hanzo thought as he stared rather harshly at the newspaper in front of him, as if it were the cause of all his problems and more.

 

“Apparently not.” Hanzo turned to the next page, despite not even having read a word on the previous page. He listened to the sound of Genji turning on the coffee machine, the low rumbling sound of it as it ground the beans--despite never drinking coffee himself, he had a fairly new and expensive machine standing on the counter in his kitchen. Not at all like the one that had stood in…the cowboy’s kitchen, which had looked decades old; not to mention the fact that you had to do everything yourself. There weren’t any buttons to press to deliver coffee at once; no, you had to wait for it to slowly brew.

 

“--always try the Tinder thing again.”

 

Hanzo looked up from the newspaper; he had been too deep in thoughts about stupid coffee machines. He frowned and looked at Genji. “What?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, we can try Tinder again, see if you get another match.”

 

“Absolutely not. Once was enough, thank you.”

 

“Come on, don’t be such a grumpy old man,” Genji scolded and took his cup of coffee with him to sit down at the table again, just warming his hand on the steaming cup of coffee.

 

“Genji,” Hanzo gritted in a warning tone, though nothing followed.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You want to be alone for the rest of your life. Got it.”

 

“That is not what I meant--” he turned to the next page, though merely so he wouldn't check his phone. Again. It still lay on the table, next to the empty juice glass, and hadn’t vibrated or lit up once during their conversation.

 

“What if he just lost your card?”

 

Hanzo looked up at his brother, expecting more to follow.

 

“Yeah, didn't you say his place was pretty messy? He could've… lost it in the mess?”

 

It wasn’t helping his situation in the slightest. He understood what Genji was trying to do for him but… at this point he would prefer it if the _cowboy_ just wasn't interested in sticking around for something other than a drunken hook-up - and he had been the one to so sweetly suggest he'd stay the night. Anger flashed across his face and he crumpled the edges of the newspaper as he held onto it.

 

“Please, Genji. I’d rather forget it altogether.”

 

“But Han--”

 

“Silence.” The stern voice immediately shut his brother up, and Hanzo managed to make a slight bow, folding the newspaper as neatly as he could muster before discarding it on the kitchen counter. “I need to get to work. Please refrain from doing anything stupid in the meantime,” he said, using the same stern voice as he carried his dishes to the dishwasher. He didn't have the time to sit around and _mope_ \--not that he would have called it moping--but he had business to attend to; real life didn't stop just because of a bad hook-up. He needed to forget any of this ever happened.

 

Fifteen minutes later, he was out the door, finally free from Genji’s prodding questions. At this point, he was looking forward to work.

 

********

 

_“Please refrain from doing anything stupid--”_

 

Genji had thought about those words non-stop since Hanzo had said them; despite the stern look and the harsh words, that sounded exactly like something he _should_ do. He should do something stupid - something to fix this whole mess, but _what?_

 

He groaned to himself and flopped down on his bed for the third time in the span of five minutes and as he stared up at the white-painted ceiling, it hit him. _Tinder_ . No, not getting Hanzo someone else to date, but rather to look up this Jesse McCree and see what had been going on. Why, oh _why_ , hadn't he thought about it before? He groaned to himself and unlocked his phone, swiping until he got to the third page and then tapped on the app. It opened and immediately asked him to log in.

 

Oh. He had forgotten he had logged out from the app after Hanzo had agreed to go on the date. Sitting up yet again, because this demanded _focus_ , Genji eyed the phone in his hand as he punched in the password, eyebrows drawn together tightly. He was hit by twelve notifications, all from one Jesse McCree; it made him feel a little bad for having forgotten Tinder completely. He opened the conversation with Jesse, only seeing the old messages at first before the newer ones flooded his way.

 

Sunday, 01:34 pm

_Hey Hanzo (or whoever runs this account?) I kinda lost your card, could you contact me here?_

 

Monday, 10:11 am

_Hey it's me again, guess you're (?) busy, but if you see this, I'd love to meet you again._

 

Monday, 02:56 pm

_Just me again. Really want to meet you again._

 

Monday, 03:05

_How about coffee instead of drinks? I remember you didn't like the whole bar-setting as a date location. Hell, I could take you on a proper dinner-date if you’d want that._

 

Monday, 11:29 pm

_So I guess that's a no then?_

 

Tuesday, 09:53 pm

_Apparently. Really thought we had something going but hey…_

 

Wednesday, 11:16 pm

_Just noticed you haven't been logged in since Friday, sorry if I'm coming off as desperate. Just bummed out I lost your business card._

 

Wednesday, 12:12 pm

_Yknow, I even cleaned my apartment to try and find it. Damn thing is gone. I swear to god I even checked the dishwasher._

 

Thursday, 12:17 pm

_It wasn't there, fyi._

 

Thursday, 12:23 pm

_At least my apartment is clean now. Can't find anything here now._

 

Thursday, 12:46 pm

_Just had another go. Couldn't find the card this time either._

 

Friday, 01:02 am

_Just, here's my number in case you find yourself here again. 555-0172 bye. I'll stop writing to you now._

 

Genji eyed all the messages and felt some secondhand embarrassment at the horrible texting and the obvious desperation in them. Wow. His brother and this Jesse seemed to be made for each other. He rolled his eyes, though his gaze fixed on the last message-- the timestamp above it said it had been sent in the middle of the night, _today._ So apparently the cowboy was still interested, if the messages were anything to go by. Genji grinned. He could still save this.

 

He pressed the number with no hesitation at all, bringing the phone to his ear and listening as it rang; after a while he got bored and was just about to hang up when someone answered.

 

_“McCree.”_

 

A deep, gravelly voice answered him, sounding like it had been roused from a heavy sleep - it had Genji’s eyes widening and he nearly froze where he sat, because _wow, that voice was definitely attractive_. He shook his head and was just about to speak up when the other man did so first.

 

_“Hey, anyone there? If not, I'm hanging up no--”_

 

“No!”

 

_“Sorry?”_

 

“I-- hi, this is Genji… Hanzo's younger brother?”

 

_“Oh.”_

 

“I don't know if he mentioned me--”

 

_“Oh, he did. Blamed the date on ya as well. So… guess yer the one who runs the Tinder account then? And since yer callin’ me I suppose ya logged in again. Sorry ya had to see those… messages.”_

 

The voice huffed through his phone and Genji heard the sound of fabric being rustled but could only guess what it was. Probably a blanket, since the cowboy had sounded so newly-woken.

 

“Yeah--” he started only to cut himself off quickly, tone sheepish now that he heard someone else mention that he was running a Tinder account someone else's behalf; now he understood why Hanzo had objected to the idea at first. He shifted where he sat and folded his legs to get comfortable.

 

_“So what did ya want? To tell me yer brother ain't interested or somethin’? ‘Cause I get it. Lost the business card he gave me almost as soon as I got it, and I never even gave him my number.”_

 

Genji listened to the heavy sigh and, as a reflex, he sighed as well, though he shook his head despite the cowboy not being able to see him. He felt sorry for the man.

 

“Nope, I mean, Hanzo is still interested--” he cleared his throat and laughed awkwardly. “But he should say that himself. Anyway--!” it was now or never, Genji thought and he looked across the room to his _very_ messy closet, deciding what words were the best to use. “You should take him on a date. Like a restaurant.”

 

_“I beg yer pardon?”_

 

Genji snickered, giddy, and he nodded furiously. “Yeah.” He was met by nothing but silence but he could still hear breathing through the phone so he _knew_ the cowboy was there, most likely thinking; pondering.

 

_“Ya sure that's a good idea? Yer brother probably thinks I didn't like him, only wanted the sex--”_

 

Genji gasped loudly, despite practically knowing it already. Guessing it was one thing, but hearing it…it was definitely not the same.

 

_“Sorry, sorry, God, pretend ya didn't hear that.”_

 

Genji did, mostly for his own sake. He cleared his throat once more and nodded, a low “yes!” escaping him as he shifted on the bed again. “Anyway, so what do you say about a date? He really wants to meet you again, too.” Silence again. Genji worried his lip between his teeth, thinking that his plan might not be as foolproof as he had thought it to be first.

 

_“He'll never go if I ask him.”_

 

“And that's why you have me! Are you free tonight?”

 

_“Yeah, I guess so.”_

 

“Excellent, so. My brother has this restaurant he likes--it's expensive, just so you know--and you just have to show up, like… a little bit after eight?” Genji spoke, glancing at the digital clock by his bed. “Just arrive _after_ my brother, all right?” Genji pressed once more - knew that Hanzo would most likely run if this Jesse would be there first.

 

_“Uh… yeah, all right? After your brother, got it.”_

 

“You got it! Alright, can I text you the details? Kinda need to make two more calls and the restaurant has limited space and… yeah. Need to make a call.”

 

_“Sure.”_

 

“Thanks, bye!”

 

He ended the call hastily, then called the restaurant first, booking a table for two in an area that would be more secluded, dropped Hanzo's name when they asked for one and when that was settled, he texted McCree about the details, what clothes he should be wearing-- reminded him to not forget his hat-- and what he should expect of the place. Then, at last, he called Hanzo. Talking to him _after_ everything was booked and done was way better, not to mention easier. He could use that as a leverage--but I've already made the reservation, you have to come!

 

At first Hanzo objected to it-- muttering about how he didn’t have the time for it-- but eventually he had folded like a badly built card house and agreed to go.

  
They both hang up on a _“see you later”_ , and now all Genji could do was to lean back and watch everything unfold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stupid and silly; started as a short drabble as a reply to what Genji would say to Hanzo the day after, and somehow, it evolved into this. #Enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Midnightluck](http://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightluck), for being my lovely beta!


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